Sindragosa's Fall and the Garden of Bones

As I stood in the tomb, my first thought was: how many trump cards does the Lich King still hold that haven't been revealed yet? That was the largest bone dragon I'd ever seen; according to Meryl, she was even larger than Sapphiron of Naxxramas. And what's even more terrifying is that she was under the Lich King's control. This clearly shows that the outside world's assessment of the Lich King's power is wrong.

Recently, the Cult of the Damned has become more active around the Sindragosa's Fall. With a great battle imminent, these wizards also want to offer their masters more Frost Wyrm.

Using the Blight Hounds' sense of smell, Nathanos easily located the Frost Queen's resting place. He walked through the snow for a whole day, and by then Belmont had probably already noticed his disappearance, so if you wanted to witness something, you'd better hurry.

"Is this the Sindragosa's Fall?" To others, Nathanos seemed to be talking to himself, but only he could see the little boy's soul.

"Intruders!"

The response displeased the Witherer, for the speaker was not a boy, but a cleric from Cult of the Damned.

"Shut him up."

Two Blight Hounds charged from different directions, splattering blood and emitting screams. Only then did the Witherer realize that these lower-ranking acolytes weren't actually dead; their skin had turned grayish-white from contact with evil magic. However, their sole purpose in life was to serve the Lich King, hoping one day their performance would earn them favor and elevate them to the status of more powerful Lich.

The sight of flesh being torn apart made Nathanos feel a little uncomfortable, so he turned his head to look at the boy's expression, and the boy was looking at him as well.

What happened here?

"A group of blue dragons died here."

"So, this is a battlefield?" Nathanos asked, looking down to find skeletons scattered beneath the ice, revealing the sheer number of blue dragons that might slumber here.

"Maybe so, but the main point is the giant pit in front of you. I bet you've never seen anything as big as it, except for the Guardian Dragon."

"This must be an ancient blue dragon..." Nathanos paused, thinking that the older the dragon, the greater its power, and the more difficult it would be to resurrect it using necromancy, yet Arthas had done it. "He personally resurrected this dragon? All by himself?"

The boy sighed, then crouched down and slowly turned over the snow beneath his feet with his small hands. It was truly astonishing that he could touch matter even in his spirit form.

After piling up the turned-over snow into a slope, he finally found a relatively intact piece of dragon bone and chanted a spell over it. "Witness with your own eyes that even the mighty dragon must heed his call."

A white mist rose around them, and Nathanos's vision began to blur and invert. A layer of illusory ice appeared on the Sindragosa's Fall, with intricately kneaded white bones. The Frost Queen remained asleep. Soon he heard footsteps, slow and heavy. The person who made the sound passed by him, but unlike in Naxxramas, this time neither the person nor Frostmourne brought any chill. It was merely a past image.

Arthas arrived, his eyes still somewhat glazed, as if he had just woken up, but this did not hinder his subsequent actions. "Rise, Sindragosa! Lead the Frostbrood Dragons into battle!"

As the Rune Sword pierced the ground, it swept away all the snow, and cracks began to appear in the ice as the blade created the fissure. Then, a massive skeletal hand burst forth from beneath. Wings ripped away the obstructing ice. Its tail thrashed about like a wild beast regaining its freedom. The head appeared last, possessing the same blue eyes as its master, flashing with fury. Dragons are proud, and Nathanos was puzzled by the fact that he sensed this blue dragon still retained a portion of her own Will, yet she still chose to submit to the Lich King. When she let out her first roar, it was met with the roar of an endless army of Undead.

The video abruptly ended...

"I've been in Northrend for so long, and I never knew the Lich King had such a trump card..."

"His power is far more than that, Nathanos. Within his fortress, countless terrifying beings reside. Now I ask you, do you still have the confidence to defeat him? You don't need to answer me; my purpose is merely to show you what kind of person Arthas has become." The bone in the boy's hand had lost its function; seemingly due to magic, it could not remain as it was, turning to ashes and scattering in the wind. "This journey has come to an end. We are going to the Garden of Bones. You must be eager to know what happened before Arthas donned the Helm of Domination."

The Garden of Bones is arguably the most dangerous area outside Icecrown Citadel. A large number of Warrior under the Lich King roam this place, and Undead occasionally emerge from the ground.

"This is it."

Nathanos determining his location, the boy carefully observed his surroundings. He saw no signs of battle, but he did find some broken weapons. These weapons did not belong to the Scourge Undead, nor to the Alliance or the Horde; they bore a faint scent of seawater and moss.

"Naga?"

"Get ready, Nathanos. This experience is different from the previous two. You will go through a battle, the same battle he went through, the one that nearly cost him his life."

"What? How did you..." Nathanos watched as the boy walked to a bloodstained stone and cast some kind of spell. In an instant, the surrounding scene completely changed. The wind and snow obscured his vision, and what surprised him was the white hair fluttering before his eyes. His hair color had never been any darker, even after death it remained as black as charcoal. Moreover, he realized that he was holding something in his hand, probably the hilt of a sword, but the feel of it was unfamiliar to him.

Frostmourne?

The Rune Sword that had destroyed him was now in his hand. Through the blade, Nathanos saw a face that was incredibly familiar, but it wasn't him; it was Arthas had become Death Knight.

So, am I supposed to experience the battles he went through? How interesting. And who is the opponent...?

A swift movement swept past the edge of his vision. He turned around hastily, trying to adjust to the body and the familiar yet strange weapon. It was a demon! The creature was facing away from him, its black wings outstretched, its split hooves sinking into the snow.

Is that Mal'Ganis? Nathanos raised Frostmourne.

The figure slowly turned around. Huge, curved horns stood atop his head. His lips were curved, as if in a smile. A black cloth covered his eyes, through which a pair of green dots revealed the exact location of his eye sockets.

Illidan!

"I'm already determined to utterly destroy the Lich King. Do you still intend to stop me, Death Knight?" Illidan raised his battleblade. Nathanos remembered his weapon clashing with Arthas's once, in Felwood, when Illidan wasn't yet this way.

Without a doubt, Illidan was incredibly powerful at this point, Nathanos began to understand why it was said that this battle almost cost Arthas his life.

Since it's just an experience, there's no need to waste words. The Witherer assumed a fighting stance, the runes on its sword shone brightly, and icy mist gradually spread upwards from the hilt.

The next second, Nathanos charged forward. Frostmourne rang out in his hands as he attacked with a downward slash. Nathanos had no idea why he was doing this; in his eyes, this Recklessness and chaotic attack was suicidal, easily blocked by his opponent, who could even seize the opportunity to counterattack.

As expected, Illidan was not intimidated by the sudden Charge. Instead, he calmly raised the Warglaives of Azzinoth to block Frostmourne. With a deafening crash, the green-glowing warblade successfully repelled the Rune Sword's attack.

Illidan gave a disdainful sneer, remaining firmly in place. Then, he pressed his weapon forward. Nathanos was forced to retreat, and was even later compelled to kneel on one knee to withstand the immense pressure.

Now the Witherer understood that this battle was beyond his control. Although he had many better ways to deal with Illidan, every action recorded in history did not allow him to change anything. This was the way Arthas chose to confront Illidan; he could only bear the consequences, endure the damage inflicted by Illidan's attacks. Most unexpectedly, he could feel pain, the pain inflicted upon Arthas.

Nathanos sensed that Arthas was clenching his teeth, concentrating his mind, and desperately trying to withstand Illidan's relentless attacks. Illidan's weapon had transformed into a whirlwind glowing green. The Prince's armor was insufficient to provide protection; the increasing number of wounds meant increasingly intense pain. The wounds burned like flames.

Suddenly, Frostmourne forward, and Nathanos recognized it as Arthas's response to Illidan. Unfortunately, the attack missed, and then he heard the sound of flapping wings—Illidan had flown into the air, outside Frostmourne's attack range.

Without hesitation, the Prince launched a counterattack. Judging Illidan's landing position, he wielded Frostmourne, meeting the falling the Betrayer head-on, and thrusting it upwards with all his might, plunging it deep into Illidan's flesh. Just as he had believed, he felt the blade bite into flesh, cutting a gaping wound in Illidan's body.

Illidan screamed in agony and crashed to the ground. Blood spurted from his bare chest, mingling with the surrounding snow. His chest heaved with labored breathing. One of the Warglaives of Azzinoth flew from his hand, the other still in his grasp.

Arthas was victorious, which was inevitable, but the excruciating pain from the bite of the demonic blade still lingered in his body, and as time passed, the pain intensified, almost driving Nathanos mad.

The "experience" is over!

The Witherer fell heavily to the ground, groaning, its Will resisting the pain.

How are you feeling?

He half-opened his eyes and saw the boy looking down at him. "It hurts!" he said with difficulty, "I feel like I'm bleeding."

"Yes." The boy nodded. "He felt it too. After that great battle, the Prince ... the King finally realized that the reason he had stagnated was because he was still human... he still had feelings... he still bled, and he still had a heart. So, the first thing he did after the battle was to discard that heart and throw it into that cave, and you... were the first person to see and touch it. Now, you should understand what kind of person he was."

Nathanos neither answered nor nodded. How could he begin? What kind of enemy was Arthas? He no longer felt pain...regret...he was utterly devoid of humanity. He would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.

Everything is because he has abandoned his own heart!

That heart has its weakness; that heart is its weakness!

"Heart?" Nathanos suddenly realized. He looked at the boy with some surprise. The boy smiled, a bright and sunny smile.

"You understand now, so I should disappear as well. He has realized his heart has been discovered and won't leave it lying there. If you want to go back and find that heart, you'd better hurry." The boy's voice brought a gust of cold wind, and he vanished from Nathanos's sight along with it.

This might be his last chance. Nathanos had no time to mourn the boy. He scrambled to his feet, still feeling weak, but he had to get back to Fordring immediately. He knew he couldn't seize this opportunity on his own.